


Throw Away the Key

by djinndreaming



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Oral Sex, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12110940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinndreaming/pseuds/djinndreaming
Summary: Sloane finds a pair of handcuffs in amongst Hurley's things.They're both extremely interested in using them.





	Throw Away the Key

Afternoons in Goldcliff are always hot.

It’s the sort of hot that permeates everything, a slow, sticky heat that creeps out from the floorboards and from the corners of every room. Hurley has lived here all her life, and while the sunsets are stunning to look at, she’s not sure that they make up for the uncomfortable heat they bring with them everyday.

It’s on one of these afternoons that Hurley finds herself in her apartment, Sloane sitting on the floor beside her bed, tinkering with some part or another. She’s got Hurley’s big toolbox in front of her, and Hurley is spread across her mattress, reading through some work files while she listens to Sloane work. This sort of thing is becoming a regular occurrence, the two of them content to just exist in each other's presence.

Hurley looks up from her mindless work when Sloane makes a noise of delight, rifling through the toolbox. “You really do just throw everything in here,” Sloane says, “don’t you?” She pulls out a pair of silver handcuffs. They’re Hurley’s spare pair, and she’d thrown them in there late one night after a particularly fruitless chase with the rest of the militia. She was going to take them with her when she went to work the following day, but that had been weeks ago, and now they lived in the toolbox.

Hurley rolls her eyes. “Bless this mess, right? One day I’ll remember to store all of my work kit in my office.” She watches as Sloane squeezes the cuffs, the metal solid in her hands. “That day is not today.”

Sloane just hums, distracted, and Hurley turns back to her readings. It’s mindless work, going through statements and lists of evidence, but someone has to do it and Hurley was the one lucky enough to be saddled with it for this case. She’s on the verge of throwing them to the side in defeat when Sloane speaks up again.

“You know,” says Sloane, angular face thoughtful as she swirls the cuffs around a finger, “you shouldn’t just leave these things lying around.”

Hurley snorts. “You’re in my house, in my room, snooping in my toolbox,” she says. “They’re hardly lying around.”

Sloane doesn’t stop spinning the cuffs. She stares at them intently, going round and round, and doesn’t look away when she says, “I’m a _felon_ , though.” The silver of the cuffs sparks with the dying light of the sun coming through the window. “Lieutenant Hurley, I think it’s high time I gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

With that, Sloane turns her head, looking straight at Hurley. Her eyes are blown, and when she stops swinging the cuffs around and holds them tightly in her fist, Hurley feels a prickle of heat burst to life in her belly.

“I know where the key is,” Hurley says, her voice suddenly weak. With deft fingers, Sloane unlocks the cuffs with a key from the toolbox, and Hurley watches, transfixed, as they pop open in Sloane’s palms. “I can get out of them on my own. In no time.”

Sloane just smirks, her eyes raking up and down Hurley’s body. There’s no way Sloane hasn’t noticed the shake in Hurley’s voice, or the way her breath is catching in her throat. The woman knows all her tells. Hurley can feel her face going hot under Sloane’s thoughtful gaze.

“I don’t think so, Lieutenant.”

Quick as her battlewagon and more graceful by half, Sloane lifts herself onto Hurley’s mattress, pushing the blankets aside with one hand while the other holds the cuffs aloft.

“I think you’re gonna lay there,” Sloane continues, making her way to where Hurley lays, hypnotised, “and let me put these on you.”

She crawls her way up Hurley’s body maddeningly slowly. One hand gently runs along Hurley’s thigh, up and up, until it reaches her hip, pushing her shirt up and resting on the bare skin of Hurley’s belly. Sloane stops there, waiting.

Hurley can feel the chill of the steel in Sloane’s other hand where it’s resting against the side of her knee. She’s sure Sloane can feel her heartbeat, thudding across her skin; blood zinging through her veins to pool hot and tingling where Hurley knows she’s getting wet. Still, Sloane waits.

All it takes is a whimper from Hurley and Sloane is leaning down, her lips capturing Hurley’s in a hard kiss. Her lips are so soft and full; usually Hurley takes her time, coaxing them apart with her tongue, but it’s Sloane’s turn to run the show. She licks into Hurley’s mouth, sudden and unexpected and perfect, and Hurley is helpless to do anything but moan into it. She arches when Sloane slips a hand further under her shirt, curving under Hurley’s back to pull their hips closer together.

Sloane groans, dropping the cuffs to the side and fitting both her hands around Hurley’s soft hips. Her fingers curl into the worn fabric of Hurley’s shirt.

“Off with this,” she says, tugging. “Come on, I want to see you.”

Hurley allows herself to be manoeuvred as Sloane pulls the shirt over her head. It drags deliciously over her hard nipples. “Sloane,” she says, half-mindless, “Sloane -“

Sloane shushes her softly, throwing the shirt over the side of the bed. “I know, baby,” she says. Her hands find the abandoned cuffs in the rumpled sheets. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, and all you have to do is lay there for me.” She holds the cuffs up. “Can you do that for me?”

Hurley’s eyes lower as she nods. Her hands, which had raised above her head before Sloane had even finished talking, curl around the slats in the headboard. She closes her eyes and tries to steady her breathing.

The bed dips and moves slightly as Sloane leans above her, and without further warning, Hurley hears a _snick_ and feels the pressure in her wrists as Sloane locks her down. Hurley tests it without opening her eyes, tugging her hands and trying to pull her arms back down to her body. They hold fast, and the sturdy wooden bed frame doesn’t move an inch.

Stretched out across the mattress like this, unable to move, Hurley feels helplessly exposed. Even with her eyes screwed shut, she can feel Sloane looking at her; is sure Sloane’s gaze is dragging over every part of Hurley’s body. Her face and chest must be bright red with a heady mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

Hurley’s about to open her eyes, about to tell Sloane to _please_ do something, _anything_ , when she feels a gust of air over one of her nipples before a hot, wet mouth closes over it, biting gently.

Hurley moans before she can stop herself. She feels warm all over; wanton and desperate. Her eyes fly open and immediately drop to where Sloane is hovering, mouth toying with Hurley’s nipple and eyes watching her intently.

“ _Sloane_ ,” Hurley says, arching her back when Sloane cups her breasts in her hands. Sloane’s fingers pinch at Hurley’s other nipple, squeezing just this side of too hard.

Sloane seems content to do this for hours. She runs her hands up and down Hurley’s body, kissing her way down Hurley’s sternum and belly and pausing before she reaches where Hurley wants her the most. Sloane mouths her way back up to kiss Hurley’s tingling lips again and again, cupping her face and stealing her breath away. As Sloane kisses her, Hurley lets her legs fall apart, and Sloane crawls between them easily, pressing their hips together and making Hurley pant into her mouth.

Hurley is _wet_. She can feel it when Sloane pushes against her, the friction pushing her underwear against her cunt where they cling, damp and slick. She manages to wrench her mouth away from Sloane’s. “Can you help me?” she asks, her voice low. She wriggles her hips. “I want these off - oh, _fuck_.”

Without warning, Sloane rubs her knuckles across Hurley’s clit over her underwear, a slow, steady pace; the touch too gentle to be anything but a tease. Hurley tugs fruitlessly on the cuffs. She feels delirious, hips trying to thrust down onto Sloane’s hand.

“Baby,” Sloane says, and Hurley’s eyes fly open. Sloane is sitting between her legs, one hand between them both and one trying to hold Hurley’s hips steady. “I said I’d make this good.” Her finger dips under Hurley’s underwear and glides over her entrance. “That means you have to stay still and let me do what I want.”

Hurley bites her lip. She wants nothing more than to fuck down, to get Sloane’s fingers inside of her, but Sloane is clearly on a mission. She takes her fingers out of Hurley’s underwear and returns them to where they were, pushing gentle pressure onto Hurley’s clit, while she waits for Hurley to stop circling her hips.

The night is warm and still. Hurley feels like all of the heat in the universe is centred on her, her body hot and flushed all over, electric wherever Sloane touches her. It’s always good, the two of them, whenever they’re naked together and rolling around in Hurley’s sheets, but this is new. Hurley’s mind feels slow as molasses and sharp and wanting at the same time. She’s not in charge now. She can’t even move.

The fight goes out of Hurley with one little sigh, her body going lax on the bed. Her hands hang slack where they’re cuffed through the headboard. Sloane runs an open palm across Hurley’s inner thigh. “There it is,” she says, eyes hot. She takes hold of Hurley’s underwear and pulls them down, bending Hurley’s legs at the knee one at a time to get them off. She doesn’t move from her position between Hurley’s strong, shaking thighs.

Sloane leans forward and kisses Hurley again, slower this time, leading her, intent. Hurley opens her mouth under Sloane’s lips, letting Sloane’s gentle grip on her jaw guide her. Sloane shifts slightly, and suddenly her thigh presses against where Hurley is wet and open.

Hurley moans into the kiss. The pressure is delicious, but she doesn’t chase the sensation. She waits, throwing her head back when Sloane moves her mouth down to suck at the sensitive skin of her neck. Hurley knows there’ll be marks; she just can’t bring herself to care.

“Good girl,” Sloane says. Her hands grip Hurley’s hips, circling them gently. “ _Now_ you can move, if you want.”

Hurley doesn’t need to be told twice, but she starts slow. She grinds down, the pressure on her clit sparking all the way up her spine. She chases the feeling, not caring that she’s smearing her wetness all over Sloane’s thigh. Sloane doesn’t care either, if the way she’s leaning into Hurley’s thrusts is anything to go by. Her hands stay on Hurley’s hips, encouraging.

The electric feeling builds quickly. Though her arms and hands are incapacitated, the rest of Hurley’s body is free to move of its own volition, and she chases her own pleasure against Sloane’s skin. Her hips lose their rhythm the closer Hurley tumbles towards orgasm, and she can hear herself panting high-pitched _oh - oh - oh_ s into the space above them. Just before the wave of it crashes, though, Sloane moves her thigh away.

The sound wretched from Hurley’s throat is one of despair. “No,” she says, body straining. Her hips are humping into a shock of open air. “Sloane, _please_ , I -“

Sloane shushes her. She runs a finger up her own thigh, through the wetness Hurley left there, and brings the finger to her lips. Hurley watches, flushing hot and prickly, as Sloane sucks it into her mouth, eyes closing.

Sloane looks as wild as Hurley feels, her chest pink and blotchy. Hurley has never seen someone so beautiful in her life. She watches as Sloane savours the taste of her wetness before she opens her eyes again, pinning Hurley with a look of desire.

“I want you to come on my mouth.”

Hurley moans, loud and shocked. Sloane continues, “I’ve been wanting it all night, ever since I came in and saw you laying there. I wanted to spread you out and get my face between those thighs.” She leans forward to kiss Hurley, and Hurley can taste the tang of herself on Sloane’s tongue. “I love the way you taste; I would eat you out for hours if you’d let me.”

Sloane says these things so easily, dirty words that ring in Hurley’s ears, and it always sends a thrill down Hurley’s spine. Here, in this space, with the two of them together, Sloane could say any manner of filthy things and Hurley would be helpless to do anything but let the words wash over her, getting her hotter and hotter.

Sloane leans back on her heels and pulls her shirt off. The underwear comes off next, and from her vantage point, Hurley can see that the dark thatch of curls between Sloane’s thighs is damp, too. Her mouth waters.

She doesn’t get to look for long, though, because Sloane leans back down to kiss her, pressing their chests together as she slides her tongue into Hurley’s mouth, deep and slow. Hurley’s nipples are hard, and the sensation of Sloane’s breasts against her own pulls a whine from her throat. Sloane pulls away before Hurley has a chance to lose herself in the feeling.

“Now,” she says, running her hands up and down Hurley’s arms where they’re locked into the headboard, “I believe I said something about getting my mouth on you.”

Hurley watches desperately as Sloane kisses her way down her body. She takes her time about it, straying from her straight path to kiss a collarbone, a breast, the freckle on one of Hurley’s ribs. Sloane is meticulous about her work, touching Hurley all over with lips and tongue and fingers, winding her up tighter and tighter, and she looks up at Hurley, dark eyes cataloguing every minute reaction Hurley has to her ministrations.

It feels like hours later when Hurley watches as Sloane releases her hips, shouldering her way between Hurley’s legs and kissing up her inner thighs. Time stands still, crystallised, as Hurley flexes her toes in the sheets, waiting.

Sloane wraps her arms around Hurley’s thighs, tugging her just that bit further down the bed, just that bit closer to her face. “Finally,” Sloane says, and Hurley doesn’t even have time to echo the sentiment before Sloane is lowering her mouth.

The touch of Sloane’s tongue to Hurley’s clit has both of them moaning. All pretence of patience is gone from Hurley, and all she wants to do is grind down against Sloane’s face, take her pleasure against her mouth. Hurley is strong but, immobilised like this, Sloane is stronger, and her grip around Hurley’s thighs forces Hurley to still.

She doesn’t take her mouth away from Hurley’s clit, sucking it between her lips and playing with it with her tongue. When she releases it, she runs her tongue down to where Hurley is wet and open, fucking inside.

This is when Hurley would be reaching down, gathering Sloane’s thick hair in her hands and holding on for dear life. She can’t, though, and she can feel the hum of Sloane’s laughter when she jerks her arms, metal cuffs thudding noisily against the wooden slats of the headboard. Sloane looks up at Hurley from between her thighs, hot and smiling. Hurley closes her eyes and lets a whimper escape.

With her eyes closed, Hurley feels rather than sees one of Sloane’s hands release its vice-like grip from around her thigh. There’s a moment, Sloane’s mouth moving back to Hurley’s clit, and then two of Sloane’s deft, clever fingers are sinking into Hurley, curling deliciously. Hurley’s eyes fly open and she looks down.

Sloane looks totally blissed out. Her eyes are closed and she’s making little noises, like this is as good for her as it is for Hurley. Hurley doubts it - Sloane is working her over the same way she works her wagons; with precision and single-mindedness. They both have a goal in mind, but _fuck_ if they aren’t going to enjoy themselves on the way there.

Sloane’s fingers are fucking into her with intent, and Hurley has apparently been given permission to move, because she’s thrusting down onto Sloane’s fingers and tongue with no protesting from Sloane. Hurley knows she’s being loud. Her window is open, a feeble attempt to let the stifling heat of Goldcliff out, and she’s sure the entire city can hear what they’re doing - Hurley gasping out Sloane’s name, over and over; the sound of the cuffs rattling in the headboard. Hurley cannot bring herself to care, not with Sloane between her thighs and her own body hurtling towards orgasm.

A third finger slides into Hurley, curling with the others on every stroke. “Oh,” says Hurley, “ _oh_.” She can feel her body tightening. “Sloane, I’m - fuck, _Sloane_ , I’m gonna -“

Sloane sucks on Hurley’s clit, hard, and the crystallised world shatters around Hurley as she comes. She cries out, loud, as her orgasm is wrenched from her, back arching and body curling. Sloane follows her movements, fingers and tongue working as pleasure crashes over Hurley in waves.

It takes a while for Hurley to come down. Sloane lifts her mouth off but keeps her fingers inside her, movements minute and gentle, bringing Hurley back to herself. Only when Hurley’s breathing evens out does she remove them, sitting up and watching Hurley with an indulgent look on her face.

“You look mighty pleased with yourself,” Hurley says, and oh god. Her voice is wrecked. Sloane had pulled every possible noise from her throat.

Sloane smirks, still sweet. “You weren’t complaining.”

Hurley hums, closing her eyes. Her body feels lax and loose, like she could melt into the bed, and her sweat is slowly cooling on her skin.

She thinks, sometimes, that she could stay like this forever. Naked with Sloane, here in her apartment, only emerging to race and eat. She knows Sloane feels the same - she sees the toothbrush, the spare clothes, the food in the kitchen that only Sloane will touch - and she thinks, _huh. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with this woman_.

Hurley can feel Sloane watching her. She opens her eyes, and smiles. Sloane is looking at her, unbelievably fond, and Hurley tracks every movement she makes when she shifts a little and bites her lip. Hurley grins.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone shy now,” Hurley says, teasing. Now that she’s come, she feels relaxed and ready to give Sloane a taste of her own medicine. “What was it you were saying about having me spread out like this?” She shakes her hands in the cuffs. “We’re not done yet. Get up here.”

Sloane gets up onto her knees and moves forward to kiss Hurley. It’s soft and sweet, a stark contrast to what Sloane had subjected her to before, and as Hurley tries to deepen it, she can hear Sloane fumbling for something on the side table. _The key_ , Hurley thinks, before she feels Sloane reach for her hands. She pulls her mouth away.

“Wait,” says Hurley. “What are you doing?”

Sloane pauses, a confused expression on her face. “I thought you wanted -“

Hurley interrupts her. “Sloane,” she says, licking her lips, “these aren’t coming off for what I want.”

She watches, mesmerised, as Sloane flushes from her face all the way down her chest. Her pupils are blown wide and Hurley can hear her breath catch.

“Oh.”

The key goes back on the table.

When Sloane kisses her again, it’s hotter and harder and full of intent. Together, they manoeuvre Hurley further up the bed so that her arms lay comfortably, a round circle flat on the mattress rather than stretched out straight, and Sloane crawls on top of her, straddling her hips. Hurley can feel how hot and wet she is against the skin of her stomach.

Sloane kisses her like that for long minutes, biting Hurley’s lips and sucking her tongue into her mouth. Hurley is more than happy to indulge her. She bucks her hips up against Sloane’s cunt and Sloane moans, the sound reverberating through her chest. Hurley drags her mouth away.

“Come on,” she says. Sloane’s unfocused eyes open and stare down at her. “You can take what you need.”

Sloane nods. She grips Hurley’s jaw in her hand and gives her one final, searing kiss, before she raises herself up, straightening her back.

For someone who was spouting such filthy things only a while ago, Sloane looks slightly embarrassed to be shuffling her way up the bed with her legs either side of Hurley’s body. Her face is flushed, her hair sticking up in every direction. Hurley is mesmerised by her. She looks beautiful.

Sloane gently slides her knees one by one into the space above Hurley’s shoulders. This close, Hurley can see how wet she is. Sloane is almost dripping.

“Come on,” Hurley says, quiet. Her eyes meet Sloane’s. “Put your hands on the headboard.”

Sloane does, and she lets out a bitten-off moan when the slight movement bumps her cunt against Hurley’s chin. Hurley licks her lips. “Sloane,” she says. “I want to get my tongue in you.”

“Yeah,” Sloane says on a sigh. She lifts her hips, shuffling forward just a little more so her cunt is hovering just above Hurley’s mouth. Hurley can feel her thighs shaking around her ears.

“Just like that, babe,” she says, and in the next moment, Sloane is lowering herself onto Hurley’s face, moaning.

 _Finally_ , Hurley thinks, tongue swirling around Sloane’s clit. She always tastes so good, strong and sweet, and Hurley want nothing more than to make her fall apart.

Sloane is already close; Hurley can tell. She’s been so wound up for so long and as soon as Hurley’s tongue fucks into her, she breathes out, “oh, _Hurley_ , fuck, please,” begging the way she does when Hurley has been toying with her for hours. Hurley feels a pang of regret - she wishes she had her hands free, so she could grab onto Sloane’s thighs and pull her closer - but the feeling passes when Sloane begins to thrust against her face.

Sloane is mindlessly chasing the friction, and Hurley has never felt so completely, deliciously used. She grinds her cunt along Hurley’s mouth, only stopping the motions of her hips when Hurley purses her lips around Sloane’s clit, pulling it into her mouth and flicking it ruthlessly with her tongue.

Sloane hovers there, fingers gripping the headboard, and lets Hurley work her over. “ _Hurley_ ,” she says, moving a hand to Hurley’s hair to hold her still. Moans are bubbling out of her, deep and loud, and Hurley closes her eyes to let them wash over her. She sucks harder, works her tongue faster, and with a long groan, Sloane comes.

Her thighs shake around Hurley’s head as the orgasm rips through her. Back bowing, she curls in on herself, hand just this side of too tight where it grips Hurley’s short curls. She thrusts against Hurley’s mouth, slick wetness spreading over her mouth and chin. Hurley _loves_ it.

When her breathing evens out, Sloane gingerly lifts herself off Hurley, tumbling to one side. Without a word, she grabs the key from the side table, unlocking the cuffs, and takes Hurley’s wrists into her hands, gently rubbing her skin. Hurley just lays there, smiling at Sloane, content to be looked after.

After some moments of silence, Sloane moves again, this time grabbing her shirt from where she’d flung it onto the floor earlier. Hurley makes a noise of despair, and Sloane laughs. “I’m just cleaning up,” she says, and uses it to wipe the worst of the wetness away from Hurley’s face.

Happy with her work, she throws the shirt away again and leans down to kiss Hurley, curling up beside her. Shifting, Hurley moves so that they’re on their sides, facing each other. She runs her hands across Sloane’s skin, up and down her arm and hip, the motion soothing. Sloane hums and closes her eyes.

Hurley sinks her fingers into Sloane’s hair and kisses her again, making up for what she couldn’t do earlier. Both of them are content to stay like this, lazily trading kisses in the drowsy early evening, with nothing outside more important than what’s in this room.

Hurley pulls back slightly and grins at Sloane. “I’ll have to let the militia know a pair of handcuffs have gone missing,” she says. “Those ones are staying with me.”

Sloane laughs, loud and clear, and Hurley imagines the sound settling into the walls and corners, staying forever.

**Author's Note:**

> don't tell the mcelroys i wrote this
> 
> many many thanks to a & e for their helpful words and encouragement (although i'm not sure about the thanks to e, who waged a war in our household over my use of the word 'panties' until i changed it to underwear).


End file.
